


A Work of Heart

by Rachello344



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Kaito's parents weren't thieves, M/M, Ran has an unnamed GF, Shiho is Shinichi's age and one of his friends, Toichi is alive, art critic!Shinichi, artist/magician!Kaito
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 11:12:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10436382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachello344/pseuds/Rachello344
Summary: Shinichi goes to a gallery opening at his mom's request.  He expects it to be a review like any other--nothing of note or particularly interesting.  Kuroba Kaito defies expectation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I read a fic the other day focusing on the art side of Kaito's heists, and I couldn't get this idea out of my head. Shinichi just feels like the type of person who would be knowledgeable about art. More knowledgeable than me, certainly. (If there's anything that stands out as Wrong where the art language is concerned, please let me know. I tried to keep it vague, but I may have written something weird, and I don't mind being (gently) corrected.)
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! It's been a while since I wrote a proper oneshot for myself! ^_^

“Shinichi, I have a gallery opening for you to attend!” Yukiko told him, too brightly for an early morning phone call.

“Mom, do you have any idea what time it is here?”

“No, hon, I didn’t check.  Anyway, the gallery opens tonight, and you simply must be there.  Your father and I know the artist’s family.”

Shinichi yawned, looking at the clock wistfully.  7:51 a.m.  He didn’t deserve this.  “Text me the details, and I’ll make an appearance.”

“Not just an appearance, Shinichi.  You owe this one a proper review.  If you don’t, I’ll know, and I’ll come home straight away.”

Shinichi winced.  “Okay, okay, a proper review.  Can I go back to sleep now?”

“Of course, dear.  Don’t forget!”  Yukiko sounded both delighted and triumphant.  “Love you!”

“Love you, too,” Shinichi yawned.  His mom hung up first.  He set his phone back on his nightstand, rolled over, and was back asleep in a few minutes.

 

* * *

 

When he woke up, Shinichi almost thought he’d dreamt up the phone call, but sure enough, he had a text message from his mother with details on the gallery opening.  He sighed, getting out of bed reluctantly.  He’d have to do research if he was taking this seriously.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, groaning, but got ready for the day and for the work ahead of him.  The research would probably take him less than an hour, at least.  He could do it over coffee.

The artist in question was a young man named Kuroba Kaito, son of Toichi and Chikage.  Kuroba Toichi was a famous magician—the family friend, he suspected—and Chikage was an art historian, famous for identifying incredibly skilled forgeries.  Kaito was pursuing two careers simultaneously—magic and art.

He skimmed through the headlines about Kuroba’s art, curious about the kind of splash he’d been making.  Shinichi had been busy with other work, so it had been a while since he’d checked recent gallery openings.  The results were surprising to say the least.

He was immensely popular, and his paintings sold well, but he was critically all over the place.  Some people lauded his talent, while others cursed his unoriginality.

He supposed he’d have to reserve judgment until he saw the works for himself.  He finished his coffee and stretched.  Research done, he had plenty of time to run errands and grab lunch.  He’d have to see if Ran or Shiho were busy today.  Hanging out with Heiji would have to wait for the weekend.

 

* * *

 

Shiho adjusted her dress discretely.  She looked as elegant as always, dressed to the nines in a classy black cocktail dress and simple black flats.  She was wearing a sapphire necklace to match her blue clutch.  She raised an eyebrow when she caught Shinichi looking.

“Someday, you’re going to have to bring an actual date to one of these things,” she told him.  “You’re lucky at least one of us is usually available.  And that Ran’s girlfriend knows you’re not trying to steal her away.”

Shinichi shrugged.  “If you didn’t want to come, you could have turned me down,” he reminded her.

She huffed.  “I didn’t say _that_.  I love fancy events.”

“I know,” Shinichi said, smiling.  “That’s why I invite you.”

“Well then, Mr. Critic, tell me what we’re looking at tonight.  Several artists?”

“No, just one.”  Shinchi skimmed over the pieces near the entrance, surprised by how different the styles were.  Not to mention…  “These all look like the works of other famous painters.”

“They are all paintings that could have been painted by the artist in question, but weren’t,” someone said from behind them.  Shinichi turned his head.  “I can personally guarantee that each of these paintings is one hundred percent original.”

The young man was well dressed in a dark blue shirt and a white vest with a red tie.  His brown hair was disheveled, but it looked to be on purpose.  His light eyes glinted mischievously above his wide grin.

“You must be the artist,” Shinichi said.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.  I’m Kudou Shinichi, and this is Miyano Shiho.  Shiho, this is Kuroba Kaito.”

Shiho gave a short bow.  “A pleasure, I’m sure.”

Kuroba laughed lightly, his manner charming.  “Well, I suppose I can’t fool you.  What gave me away?”

“The clothes reminded me of your father’s debut outfit.”  Shinichi shot a glance to Shiho.  “He and his father are both magicians.”

Kuroba looked surprised.  “You’ve done your research.  I’m impressed.”

Shinichi shrugged.  “I try to be informed when I attend openings.  Do you recommend a particular path through the gallery?”

Kuroba laughed again.  “You are just full of surprises, but yes.  I recommend you take the path to the left and wind your way through and back around.  That was how I arranged it.”

Shinichi smiled.  “Then that’s the route we’ll take.”

Kuroba gave him a bow, which Shinichi returned.  When they started off, Shiho touched his arm, leaning closer.

“I think he’s into you,” she said.

Shinichi jolted.  “What?  Don’t be ridiculous; we just met.”

“Yes, and I think he’s attracted to you.  It figures you wouldn’t notice.”  Shiho sighed.  “Well, then, I’m going to get a glass of wine.  Stay near here so I can find you again.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once she was gone, Shinichi turned his attention to the first paintings.  If he didn’t know better, he would have thought they were priceless works that belonged in a far more prestigious museum.  If the signature wasn’t “Kuroba Kaito,” they could have easily been passed off as forgeries.

The reviews were beginning to make sense, at least.

He moved slowly from painting to painting, searching for something common between them, some element that marked them as uniquely Kuroba’s.  By the time Shiho caught up to him, he still hadn’t found it.

They wandered in companionable silence, occasionally exchanging observations on a particular piece.  Shiho wandered in and out, occasionally looking at the art, and occasionally slipping away to mingle with the other people chatting around them.

At the center, the very heart of the exhibit, Shinichi found what he’d been looking for:  a simple painting of a gemstone, red within blue, shining in the moonlight.  The style was deceptively simple, almost impressionistic.  It was beautiful.

He thought back to the other paintings, startled into a laugh when he figured it out.  This gem, at the heart of the exhibit, was hidden in each of the other paintings, whether overtly present or not.  How could he ever put to words the joyful moment of realization?  How could he describe the exhibit’s heart?

Would it be a conflict of interest if he purchased the piece for himself?

He was still staring when he heard footsteps behind him.  “Your date is flirting with a wealthy young man by the bar,” Kuroba said.  He stopped at his side.

“Good for her.”  Shinichi shot Kuroba a look.  “She’s my friend more than my date, you know.”

“I do now,” he said, smiling.  “Not to fish for compliments, but it looks like you’ve been standing here a while.  What’s caught your eye about this one?”

Shinichi looked back at the painting.  “It’s yours.  The style is no one else’s but your own.  There are other influences, of course, but this painting isn’t trying to be someone else’s.”  When he glanced back at Kuroba, the man was blushing.

“You noticed all that?”

“Of course.  The best part, though, is that it’s been in every painting I’ve seen so far, just under the surface or just out of sight.”  Shinichi smiled.  “Something to mark each painting as your own, even when you’re mimicking someone else.  Without this and your signature, I would have had a hard time saying they _weren’t_ by the painters in question.”

“That’s,” Kuroba trailed off.  “No one else has ever noticed that before.  Well, aside from my mother.”

“Really?”  No wonder he looked so embarrassed.  When Shinichi looked back at him, he was smiling, cute and a little dopey.  Shinichi turned back to the painting.  “Maybe they weren’t looking close enough.”

“They were seeing what I wanted them to see,” Kuroba said.  “I’m a magician, remember?  Misdirection is my bread and butter.”

Shinichi laughed.  “There is that.”  He looked over the painting again, admiring the play of shadows, the gem’s shine and glow.  “This is probably my favorite,” he decided.

Kuroba’s laugh was self-deprecating.  “You’re the first to say that, too.”

Shinichi gave it one last look, lingering, before he turned bodily to face Kuroba.  “Since my date has abandoned me, would you like to walk with me for the last half?”

Kuroba’s smiled turned warmer, more genuine.  “Sure.  I’d like to see if you can spot the gem in the next ones.  It’s better hidden in these.”

Shinichi laughed, leading the way.  He always loved a good challenge.

 

* * *

 

Kaito was scrolling through the new articles about his exhibit, only half-interested.  His mind was still on the night before, or rather, on the man he met.  _Kudou Shinichi_.

He should have given him his phone number after all.  He sighed, trying to pay some attention to the reviews, but most of them were the same as ever.  Brilliant forgeries, excellent work but unoriginal—Brilliant original pieces?

“Exceptional artist claims the spotlight with brilliant original works mimicking famous styles,” by Edogawa Conan.

The article was a glowing review, drawing attention to the skill involved in obscuring one’s preferred style and the little Easter eggs in each piece, just waiting to be spotted.  He refused to tell people what to look for, but explained that they could find what to look for at the “heart of it all.”  The one flaw he noted was a lack of confidence in the pieces done in his own style of which there was only one.

It all sounded like Kudou, so who was Edogawa?  Was he a friend of Kudou’s?  Or was Kudou an alias?  He clicked on the blog’s main page, glancing over the previous reviews.  They were all honest without being cruel, pointing out flaws alongside strengths.

His face felt hot, and his heart pounded.

He really needed to see Kudou again.

 

* * *

 

“Mom, do you think you could ask the Kurobas for Kaito’s cell number?” Shinichi asked, leaning back in his armchair.  “I meant to ask him for it, but it completely slipped my mind.”

“Oh?” Yukiko sounded interested.  “What do you need it for?”

“I want to buy one of his paintings now that I’ve posted my review.”  Shinichi scratched his cheek.  “Assuming no one else has claimed it already.”

“Boring,” Yukiko sighed.  “But yes, I can get you his number.  I’ll text it to you.”

“Thanks, Mom.  How’s the trip?”

“Exciting and magical, as always.”  Her sigh this time was pleased.  “Your father can be such a romantic sometimes.  Or at least, he’s very good at following Toichi’s advice.”

Shinichi laughed.  It was always nice to hear they weren’t fighting.  “The Kurobas are with you, then?”

“They are.  We met up with them in Paris.  Toichi’s on a world tour, you know.”  Yukiko carried on, talking about what they’d seen, where they’d been, Toichi’s show and how incredible it was…  By the time they hung up, it had been almost an hour.

And five minutes later, he had a text with a cell phone number.  “He’s single,” his mother added, helpfully.

 

* * *

 

Kaito’s phone buzzed along the table, scaring the shit out of him.  Heart beating too fast, he tugged it over, unlocking the screen.

“Hi, this is Kudou Shinichi.  We met at your gallery opening the other night.  I wanted to ask about Pandora.  Has anyone purchased it yet?”

Kaito gaped at the phone.  He wasn’t sure how to react.  How did Kudou get his number?

“Oh, and I got your number from your parents.  They’re traveling with mine right now.”  Kudou was clearly a mind reader.

His dad had mentioned running into old friends in Paris.  What were the odds that those were Kudou’s parents?

He shook his head, pulling up the keyboard.  Now if he could play it right, maybe he could convince Shinichi to see him in person…  Maybe even as a date.  “No one’s bought it yet, no.  If u’d like, we could talk about it over coffee?”

“I know a great place.”  Kudou’s next text included an address.  “Is the location okay for you?”

Kaito looked it up.  It was just down the street from the gallery his art was displayed at.  “Its perfect.  Tomorrow afternoon?  :)”

“How’s 3?”

“Great!  See u then!”

“See you.”

Kaito set his phone down, and took a deep breath.  He pressed his hands over his face and tried not to grin too wide.  He failed.  He’d have to get it out of his system before tomorrow anyway.  He had to look cool in front of Kudou.

 

* * *

 

Shinichi smiled at Kuroba when he walked in, waving him over.  When Kuroba sat down, he was smiling, but he seemed nervous about something.

“Before I—that is, before we talk about the painting…”  Kuroba shifted in his seat, eyes dropping to the table.  He huffed, looking frustrated with himself.  “Thank you for writing such a nice review about my art.  Your secret’s safe with me, but I couldn’t see you without thanking you.”

Shinichi faltered, his cheeks warm.  No one had ever thanked him before.  Granted, most people didn’t _know_ , but he didn’t think ‘thank you’ were the words most of the people he reviewed would want to say if they did know.  “It was really nothing.  I was only telling the truth.”

“I know.”  Kuroba’s smile finally looked genuine.  “That’s why I’m thanking you.”

The waitress briefly interrupted them to take Kuroba’s order—hot chocolate and a pastry.  When she left, Kuroba leaned forward, his arms pressed to the table.

“Now, about the painting.  I can’t sell it to you.”  Disappointed, Shinichi was about to ask why he agreed to discuss it when he held up a hand.  “Please, let me finish.  I can’t sell it to you.  It’s too personal for me to profit off of it.  But, well, I wouldn’t mind giving it to you.”  Kuroba smiled, rueful.  “You’re probably the only person that I know would appreciate it, and art is meant to be shared.  I hope you’ll accept it as a gift.”

“Kuroba, I couldn’t possibly—that’s too nice,” Shinichi protested.  “I want to buy it from you.”

He shook his head.  “Any other painting, I’ll sell.  But this is the one painting I won’t budge on.  It’s…  I don’t know how to explain it in a way that doesn’t make it weird.”  Kuroba wrinkled his nose.  “If I try to explain it, can you promise not to jump to any weird conclusions?”

“I can only promise to try.”  Shinichi hesitated.  “If you don’t want to explain…”

“I want to, it’s just hard to put into words.”  Kuroba tapped his lip as he thought things over.  “You described that painting as the heart of the exhibit, and you were right.  But it’s also…  Well, it’s like my own heart, too.  It’s the part of myself that I put into every other painting I did.”  Kuroba looked down at his hands, his cheeks going a little red.  “It’s more ‘me’ than any other painting in that room, or at least, it’s more concentrated ‘me’ than the others.  Does that make sense?”

Shinichi could feel a corresponding blush on his own cheeks.  “You want to give me your heart?”

Kuroba groaned, covering his face with his hands.  “That’s—I told you it sounded weird.  That’s too much, right?”

Shinichi couldn’t answer.  The only one who would appreciate it.  Meant to be shared.  _Shit_ , but Kuroba wasn’t just cute, he was a _romantic_.  It probably wouldn’t be a conflict of interest to ask him out _now,_ right?  Maybe he should reconsider.  He shouldn’t come on so strong when he’s barely spoken to the man.

“Go out with me?”  _God damn it._   No self restraint.  And Kuroba was worried about being too much.  Talk about overdoing it.

When he risked looking back up, Kuroba’s lips were parted in shock, and his cheeks were _scarlet_.  He couldn’t seem to find something to say in response.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.  You were just so cute, and—shit—you offered me your _heart_ ,” Shinichi said, groaning.  “I already wanted to date you, but then you had to go and—”

“Yes, Kudou, absolutely, please date me,” Kuroba blurted.  “I was lamenting not getting your number for the two days before you texted me.  I was trying to figure out how to look you up without it being weird.”  He groaned.  “I—I want to give you the most important painting in the set as a _gift_ , just because you actually understood it, and well.  Me.  You understood me and my art, and that _never_ happens.”  Kuroba met his eyes again.  “Please say something so that I stop saying embarrassing things.”

Shinichi had never felt like the phrase ‘love struck’ could apply to him, but here he was.  Twitterpated, head over heels, stupidly falling for an artist-slash-magician he barely knew.

“My mom is trying to set us up together,” he provided.  “She told me about your gallery opening and gave me your phone number.  She also told me you were single.”

Kuroba laughed, still looking embarrassed.  “She and my mom must have been gossiping.”

“Without a doubt.”  Shinichi smiled.  “I have to say, though, this is her best matchmaking attempt yet.  It’s certainly her most successful.”

Kuroba ducked his head like he was shy.  “Well, that remains to be seen, doesn’t it?  We haven’t even gone on a date yet.”

Shinichi nodded.  “You’re right.  An oversight on my part.”  He tapped his chin with his finger.

The waitress brought Kuroba’s hot chocolate to him.  Kuroba thanked her, and took a drink before wrapping his hands around it to soak up the warmth.

“Then, how about this,” Shinichi continued.  “I will not accept the painting from you at this time, because something that important shouldn’t be given away like this.  If you still want to give it to me at some later date, say, a few months from now, that would be a different story.”  Shinichi smiled.  “There, now that the business is out of the way, what are your plans for the rest of the afternoon?”

Kuroba looked startled for only a moment before he started to laugh.  “I’m free,” he said after a beat.  “What did you have in mind?”


End file.
